Of dasies and raccoons
by Bellatrix wannabe 89
Summary: George visits Fred's grave seven years after his death, expecting nothing more then unanswered questions and the sound of the wind through the trees. What he gets, however, is much, much more amazing. One shot, complete.


**JK Rowling owns everything**

**"I believe that we will always be Together**

**Forever with our love.**

**Still living in our different worlds**

**That time will still bind.**

**Walk your last pathway of life dear brother,**

**Wait for me at the end of the line.**

**Rejoice with wonder and Unify**

**and befall a family again.**

**Dear Brother of mine."**

**Pamela Mary smith, Brother of mine**

**May 2, 2005.**

George Weasley walked through the numerous graves until he stopped in front of a grave he had visited so often.

He looked down at it and read the inscription.

"Fred Olympus Weasley, April 1, 1978 - May 2, 1998." Then underneath it, a large lightning bolt inscribed on the shiny marble. For that was the sign that they had fought, and had been a casualty in the second war.

He sighed then bent down and placed a large bouquet of daises in front of the gravestone. They were Fred and George's favorite flowers, because even with there brilliant minds, they could never manage to figure out how muggles managed to squirt water in the victims face, and they had always loved a challenge. He looked at the headstone for a moment before he sat down in front of it.

"Hey, Fred," he said softly. "How you doing?"

He paused, even though he knew it was impossible, he had always deep down hoped that one day he would answer back.

"I'm doing good. You should see Angelina though, she's getting huge!" he laughed, but it died out quickly. He never did like the sound of him laughing alone. "But you know her, she's still up there trying to catch a quaffle at seven months pregnant. Wood had to finally take her broom away and hide it from her. It's amazing, even after nine years, they're on the same quidditch team and still fighting about it. She's hoping for a girl, but in all honesty," he leaned in closer and whispered to the headstone as if Angelina was standing right behind him, "I wouldn't say to another little bloke."

He leaned back and pulled something out of the pocket of his robes. "Me and Ron finally managed to buy Zonko's," he laid a copy of the deed next to the daises and weighed it down using rocks he conjured from his wand. "Oh did I tell you? Ron's engaged!" He paused once more, but like always, all he heard was the wind rustling through the trees. "You should have seen mum, acting like it was some huge surprise that him and Granger are finally gonna to tie the knot. 'Oh my goodness! What a huge surprise! We must get to planning at once!'," he squeaked in a high falsetto voice. "Then she cursed me for saying 'well shit, mum, you knew they were gonna do it sooner or later!" He let out a sad chuckle. "Like she never cursed in her life. I never did tell you what she screamed during the battle did I? Well, it was just Voldy and that Lestrange chick left right. Lestrange is dueling Granger, Ginny, and Luna. Then she shoots a curse so close to Ginny, you could actually see it rush through her hair. Then all of a sudden, mum comes running onto the battle floor." He let out another short laugh, "you've never seen mum run have you? God, I'm telling you, if it hadn't of been so serious I would have wet my pants from laughing. Anyway, she runs up to her, and she screams, and I mean she screams, 'not my daughter, you bitch!'. Then we'll all sitting at one of the tables, and no ones talking. Then finally, the first words out of her mouth after all of this was, 'if I ever hear any one of you saying that word, I'll jinx your tongue off'." He let out another short, sad laugh.

He felt a lump in his throat and his eyes began to sting.

"It's not fair, Fred," he said softly. "You missed so much. We achieved something that we've dreampt about since we were five, then you have to go and-" He pauses, even after all this, he still can never bring himself to say that his twin, his other half had died.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. Ron's a hard worker and I love him, but he's not you. He doesn't understand the beauty of watching an unsuspecting victim get covered in boils, or watching someone get covered in feathers. It's just not the same without you. I miss you, Fred," he let the tears that had been threatening to fall since he arrived finally fall. "You'll never know how much. I miss you so much." He let out a sob before someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Daddy," a soft voice said, "are you okay?"

George turned around and smiled sadly when he saw a five year old Fred Jr standing there, concern etched in his face.

"Hey, buddy. What are you doing here?"

"I was getting bored in the car. Are you okay, daddy?" he asked again.

George blinked away his tears, and looked at the head stone once more.

There was a chatter from behind the gravestone. All of a sudden, a gray raccoon, with reddish brown rings on his body and around his eyes. It was carrying something in it's mouth. George quickly stood up and stood in front of Fred.

"Go away, shoo!" he yelled at it. But it just cocked his head and gave him an interested stare. He walked from behind the stone and looked at the deed weighed down by the rocks. After a while it looked up at George, and he could have sworn he saw it smile.

George looked at it with interest, was this normal raccoon behavior? Come to think of it, he thought to himself, shouldn't it be sleeping right now? The raccoon went right up to George. He put the thing he had in it's mouth on the ground, then placed a paw on his leg, looking from him to the object. George slowly bent down as not to frighten it and picked it up. It was a daisy head. He looked at it for a moment before a tiny stream of water squirted from the flower into George's face. The raccoon let out a series of sounds, something that sounded very similar to a laugh that seemed odd, yet strangely familiar.

George looked at the raccoon in shock for a moment before it gave him a little smile and ran off, making sure not to dodge the grave stones, but to jump over them.

He stared after it, and for the first time in almost seven years he laughed, a true, full, heart felt laugh.

"Daddy are you okay?" Fred questioned a little confused. George grinned down at him before he picked him up and placed him on his shoulders and pocketed the daisy head.

"Yeah, I'm fine son, I'm fine."

As they walked away, George couldn't help but smile, for now he knew, he would never laugh alone again, and he would always recieved an anwser when he spoke..

**This is dedicated to Leslie Norman Lafave. A man whose name I am proud to carry. A man who was one of the last true cowboy's. May your stories live on forever. **

**Dec 12, 1925 - Feb 11, 2008**


End file.
